Harry Potter and his Witches: Version 2
by Shinteo-5
Summary: Written in response to Jon3776's challage 'Turning the Table', though does not completely follow it. This is Version 2. Harry is captured by the Black sisters. HarryMutiship. Notevil!Harry. Post HBP AU.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and His Witches Ver. 2

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: This is a rewrite of my previous story. When I went back to it the last time, I found so many mistakes that I could not continue it as it was. I hope everyone can forgive me. It should be better this time round.

I'll leave the last one up, just as a benchmark, to see if I have improved this last two years...

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Chapter 1:

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_June 30, 1997_

_The school year had just ended a month ago, and the events that had happened near the end of the last term of school are still fresh in the minds of those of us who had witnessed them. The newly appointed Headmistress of the school had seen the students off at the Hogwarts Express with a grim face, and the students themselves seemed subdued, and filed away into the Express without their usual bustle and noise. _

_The week that followed was a busy one. Harry had requested permission to stay behind at Hogwarts to do some research on the Horcrux; naturally we stayed back as well. Well, Ron had wanted to go back to the Barrow, seeing as Bill's wedding is coming soon, but I managed to talk him into staying. When Headmistress McGonagall tried to protest, Harry insisted, ceding the last wishes of Dumbledore. The Headmistress had no choice then but to let us stay. _

_We spend many hours in discussion with the portrait of the late Headmaster Dumbledore, pumping him for any information he had on the Horcrux, and many more within the restricted section of the school library, searching for more information on the Horcrux. We even made a trip down into the dungeons, and went through Snape's office with a fine-toothed comb. Unfortunately, whatever information we found were of little to no use. The Horcrux were the darkest of the dark arts, and information on them was highly unlikely to be found in a school, where impressionable minds would be able to find them, after all. But we had to try. No stone could be left unturned._

_I did manage to find something of personal interest though. After Snape managed to betray the Order and Dumbledore, I began to think about Harry and his safety. Who knows if anyone of us would do the same, whether willingly or not, such as the Imperius curse or blackmail. The fact that he is, literally, our last and only hope, is indisputable. There is even a prophecy on him and Voldemort. The fact that the Ministry is worse than useless, even the Order of the Phoenix cannot help him now. They are all busy maintaining their cover, given the close lookout that the Ministry is keeping on everybody; ready to haul anyone that the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, deems to be dangerous. I swear, that guy is a bigger attention seeker than Cornelius Fudge ever was. Doesn't help that he's better at it too..._

_No. What Harry needs is a group that is loyal to him alone. A group that would support him up till the time when he has to face off with that snake Voldemort. But for that to work, I will have to find a way to ensure loyalty. We cannot afford to have the likes of Wormtail or Snape within this group. Not when the stakes are this high. It is a good thing that the Headmistress gave us an unlimited pass to the restricted section of the library. I was able to do a great deal of research that does not exactly have to do with the Horcruxes..._

_I think I may be onto something. I just hope I know what I'm doing. Some of the stuff I'm looking into belongs to the restricted section for a very good reason. Nothing concrete at the moment. Vague hints only. However, It just might be what I'm looking for. I'm not going to find it here, of course. Like the Horcrux, the things I'm looking into have no business being in a school. I would need a better source of information. _

_Finally, we ran out of time. Harry has to return to Privet Drive to renew the blood protection his mother left for him. He did not want to, of course, and I cannot blame him for that. But we have no choice. Professor Dumbledore's instructions were pretty clear. Though my own project requires a little more time, time is something we do not have. We will be leaving tonight. _

_Hermione Jane Ganger_

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Hermione shut her diary with a sigh. She looked around the common room, empty now that most of the students had left for the summer. Her backpack was on the ground by her side, and she stuffed her diary into it, looking up towards the stairs leading to the boys' dormitory with an impatient huff. It was half-pass eleven already, and they had planned to leave at midnight. What were the boys doing?

She was debating if she should go up to their dormitory and hurry them up when a loud crash was heard from the stairs. Hermione could only sigh in expiration when she saw the reason for the commotion. Ron was spread out on the ground next to the stairs with his pack busted open beside him, and Harry looking down in amusement from halfway up the stairs, trying without much success to hide his grin.

"If you're done laughing at me…" Ron grumbled, picking himself up from the floor, and shoving the items he dropped back into his pack with wounded dignity.

"Sorry, mate." Harry gave up the fight and laughed, hopping down the remaining steps of the stairs to help. "But you must admit that you look rather funny on the floor like that. I had no idea that you miss Hermione so much that you would dive off the stairs to see her."

"I tripped!" Ron nearly screamed as his ears grew red. He pushed the last item into his pack with much greater force then needed, determinedly not looking in the direction of Hermione.

"You know, you don't have to do this..." Harry begin hesitantly, but was cut off by Hermione placing her finger on his lips before he could continue.

"We've been through this already, Harry. We're going with you, and that's that!" With a huff, she shouldered her pack. "I wouldn't leave you to deal with those... muggles alone!"

"Yeah, what she said." Ron said, as he too took his place beside Harry. "Besides, someone has to be there to keep you from going stir crazy if you only had her for company..."

"Thanks guy." Harry smiled gratefully. "I really appreciate that."

"No problem, mate. Anytime." Ron answered.

"Are you ready then?" Headmistress McGonagall appeared through the portrait hole, carrying a pot of floo power.

"Just about done, Professor." Hermione replied. "Is the floo connected?"

"Yes, for a one time trip only." The Headmistress made her way to the fireplace, the trio falling in steps behind her. "I'll be locking down the school for the summer after you are gone, so make sure that you have everything with you." She stopped beside the fireplace. "You remember the plan?"

"Yes, Professor. Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, then take the Knight Bus to Privet Drive." Hermione recited in one breath.

"Right. Make sure you follow the plan." She admonished, holding out the floo power.

"Let's go then." Harry said, grabbing a handful of the power and tossing it into the fireplace. "Last chance to back out."

"Just get going already. We'll see you on the other side." Hermione sighed, exasperated, before shoving Harry into the fireplace, leaving Him with just enough time to shout out his destination before spinning out of view. "Hopefully we'll see you for the new year, Professor."

"I'll do my best to make sure the school stays open." Headmistress McGonagall promised. Hermione nodded, before tunning to Ron.

"You next."

"What? Wait a minute! Ahh... Leaky Cauldron! Leaky Cauldrrrrrrooonnn...!" And Ron was gone, whipped away by the floo system.

"Goodbye, Professor. Stay safe." Hermione said before stepping into the fire herself.

"You too, child." McGonagall whispered, a tear in her eye.

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"Potter has moved. Get ready, Bella." Voldemort hissed as his eyes opened, untangling his mind from the link he shared with his cursed child nemesis. It has taken much effort to eavesdrop into his thoughts, and he could not gleam much, but what he did recover was more then enough.

"His location, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked from her position at the side of her Master, head reverently lowered.

"The Leaky Cauldron." Voldemort replied. "You should not encounter any difficulties there. Take Draco with you. It'll be a good lesson on how we operate."

"Of course, my Lord." Bellatrix agreed, bowing. "It'll be his honor, I'm sure."

"Go then. Bring back this... boy that is said would be my downfall."

"At once." Bellatrix bowed again, before moving out to collect her nephew for her mission.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and His Witches

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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Chapter 2:

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_July 1, 1997_

_It's time. At long last. After a month training and pain and teaching, it is time to take my revenge against that dratted fool, Harry Potter. _

_When I first arrived with professor Snape, I was weak, unsure. I was unable to complete my mission. I failed the Dark Lord. I failed to kill that muggle-loving fool Dumbledore. _

_The Dark Lord was not pleased. _

_Ah... Pain! Agony! The wrath of the Dark Lord fell on me. I screamed, fire in my veins, knives cutting into me. Greater pain I had not known. It seemed to last forever, this lava in me. Pain upon pain upon pain, it all came crushing down on me..._

_At long last, My Lord lifted his spell, and commanded professor Snape to bring me away, to 'retrain him in a manner befitting the son of a Death Eater', or so My Lord put it. _

_I was barely able to stand, let alone walk. Professor Snape pulled me onto my feet, and dragged me out of the cavern that the Dark Lord used to meet with his Death Eaters. I remembered seeing my mother, her face as white as chalk, in a corner of the cavern. Strange, why did she look so fearful and afraid...? _

_Thus began my training. Everything that I had learned before was as nothing compared to the spells that I'm learning now... I briefly wondered why my father did not teach me all these. Such power... is this the power granted to the Death Eaters that followed the Dark Lord the first time? I can understand why they are so feared then. I confess, I had my doubts before. How could a group that numbered less then a hundred cower an entire country?But now... Now there is no doubt. The rites, the sheer strength of the spells. They are unbelievable, if I had not seen the results that came out of my own wand with my eyes. _

_With every spell I cast and every potion I used, whether the people I used them on were willing or not, I can feel my heart harden. At first I was unwilling and hesitate to do it, but with time, I found myself caring lesser and lesser... They were weak, and so they will fall before the strong. It is the natural order of things..._

_Ah, here comes Aunt Bella. It must be time... The Dark Lord had somehow sensed that Potter is no longer within the protection of Hogwarts, and had commanded me to get ready to capture Potter. Surprisingly, my mother wanted to come as well. I wonder why... _

_No mater. This is my one chance to redeem myself. To earn back the favor of the Dark Lord. This time I will not fail. I dare not fail. _

_I will capture Harry Potter, or die trying..._

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"Why, what's with the sudden interest, sister dear?" Bellatrix asked, surprised. "You've never shown any interest in our little operations before?"

"My son have never needed to participate in one of them before." Narcissa snapped. "I want to see how he'll perform in his mission myself."

"Hmm..."

"What? Can't I see how much my own son has learned under the teachings of Severus?"

"Oh, of course you can." Bellatrix drawled. "However, you can't expect me to believe that is the only reason you wish to leave this house. Oh don't bother," She cut Narcissa off as she opened her mouth, no doubt to give one excuse or another. "It doesn't matter to me as to why you wish to come along. Just stand in one corner and don't get in the way of the mission, or else, sister or not, I will cut through you. I will not have anything getting in the way of the mission this time!"

"Fine!" Narcissa huffed, crossing her arms and turning up her nose at Bellatrix. She laughed at how childish her little sister is acting before turning her attention to Draco, who was standing to one side, little behind his mother.

"It's time, Draco. Are you ready to do the Dark Lord's bidding?"

Draco did not reply, instead moving away from his mother and towards the door. Clearly he can't wait to get started.

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Tom was cleaning up his tavern, the Leaky Cauldron, when the fire suddenly roared and neatly deposited three teenagers, one after another, on the floor, almost by his feet. He was so surprised by this that all he could do was to blink somewhat foolishly as the teens struggle to untangle themselves.

"Well, this is a surprise, I must say." He managed at last to say. "Don't think I ever had customers this late before," He lifted his eyes to check the clock behind the bar. "Or early, depending on your views on hours of the night..."

"I'm sorry," A mess of brown hair replied, as Hermione pulled off one of the boy's leg from her stomach and sat up. "We didn't mean to disturb you this late."

"Oh, think nothing of it, lass." Tom laughed. "You've just given me an excuse to stop work for a moment. Sit down. I'll get you something to drink." He propped his mop against the wooden counter and walked round to his bar. "Is butterbeer ok with you guys?"

"Oh yes." Ron answered, grinning widely. "And something to eat too, if you don't mind."

"Ron! We don't have time to be eating!" Hermione scolded, hands on hips. "We're suppose to get on the Knight Bus, remember?"

"Don't be a worrywart, Hermione." Ron waved off her concern. "A half-hour or so wouldn't do any harm. Besides, I'm hungry."

"Hungry? How could you be hungry? We had supper just before packing!"

"I can't help it! I'm a growing boy." Ron protested. "I need my substance."

"You're unbelievable! Harry, say something!" Hermione turned to the reminding member of the trio, who had thus far kept out of the augment.

"Harry?" Tom paused, the patter of sandwiches he was carrying dropped onto the table with a loud clutter. His eyes flicked upwards to the lightning shaped scar that was the trademark of the Boy-who-lived. "Mr. Potter! What are you doing out so late at night."

"Nothing." Harry nervously flatten his fringe over his scar, wishing, not for the first time, that he did not have such an distinguish mark. He shot an angry glance at Hermione, who had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Alright, I'm not asking anymore." Tom said with a smile. After all, one does not to be a barkeep without learning to keep one's mouth shut. "And I've not seen you at all tonight." He winked at Harry, who smiled gratefully in return. The ability to see beneath the surface is also a very helpful ability after all. "You'll be wanting rooms then?"

"No thanks." Harry replied. "We'll be leaving after this."

"I'll leave you to your meal then. Just leave the plates on the table when you need to leave. I'll clear them in the morning." Tom instructed, before disappearing into the back of his store.

"I can't believe it!" Hermione muttered, plopping herself onto a chair with her arms folded, watching as Ron started on the platter, demolishing a quarter of it in short order. "Leave some for us, you pig!"

"Only if you hurry." Ron grinned, bits of food flying out.

"Didn't I tell you not to talk with your mouth full?" Hermione wiped at the bits that had landed on her with a disgusted grimace.

Ron swallowed his mouthful before speaking. "You did. But since when did I listen to you?"

"Argh! Harry! Say something!"

"Now, now. Calm down." Harry sooth, pushing a glass of butterbeer in front of Hermione. "We'll leave once Ron's done. Shouldn't take long, with the way he eats."

"Not you too?" Ron sounded betrayed, though he had a grin on his face.

"Just stating facts, mate."

"I warn you now, I'm not taking any responsibility if you get chewed out for this!" Hermione said, taking a slip from her butterbeer.

"Don't worry, Hermione. Nothing will happen." Ron said, before turning back to his sandwiches.

Of course, the door chose that exact moment to blow up. Ron really should have kept his mouth shut...


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and His Witches

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter. I was stuck on this part for the longest time, and there is this really irritating thing known as job-seeking, and working for a living. Takes time out of writing.

Oh well, better late then never. Enjoy!

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Chapter 3:

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_There was no warning, no sign. We were caught flat-footed, unprepared. One moment I was enjoying my sandwiches, the next, I was bouncing off the stone floor, having been thrown back by the shockwave of the exploding door. Harry had somehow managed to get to his feet, and had dragged Hermione with him behind the overturned table, cowering behind it with his arms around her, protecting her from spellfire coming from the door. I had landed across the room from them, and so had to find my own cover behind the counter. _

_Part of me was hoping that this was all a misunderstanding, that Mad-eye Moody got too tired of waiting and came to pound CONSTANT VIGILANCE into us with a fake attack, or that it was some kind of accident, but that was dispelled when I heard her voice, that disgusting, fake baby-talk. _

_Bellatrix!_

_Even across the room, I heard Harry's hiss of fury when her tauting reached us. She was playing, toying around with us. We took potshots whenever we can, returning fire whenever we had the chance, but she was far too fast, too skilled for us. Her last counter-attack near took my hand off. I'm really starting to regret getting fate's attention like that now. We should have left when we had the chance..._

_During one of the rare times when I was out of my cover attacking, I noticed that she was not alone. Leaning on one side of the door was Malfoy; that slicked back blond hair and arrogant smirk was unmistakable, though I had but a moment before returning spellfire forced me back behind my rapidly thinning cover. Blasting hexes had reduced a once solid oak counter into near splinters, while Harry and Hermione had been forced behind different tables, their original long since blown to bits. We'll have to do something fast, they are starting to run out of tables to hide behind..._

_No lethal spells yet, She must want us alive. Maybe we can use this to our advantage. Maybe escape up the stairs? No. Too dangerous. We'll be trapped there... I could sacrifice myself, throw myself at her and hope her use of non-lethal spells continues and that I can survive that barrage. That should give Harry and Hermione enough time to escape through the back and into Diagon Alley. There they might be able to loose her in the streets. We are clearly overpowered here. Malfoy have not joined in yet, that arrogant bastard, and yet we were already being beaten back. The only reason we are not dead yet is because she isn't out to kill us. That wouldn't last long._

_I turned to signal Harry about my plan, but at that moment, the last of my cover disappeared beneath her attacks. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see a red beam heading towards me._

_Ah hell... This is going to hurt..._

_-------------------------------------- _

"Lucius, I've been thinking..."

"My Lord?" Eyes glanced nervously about the cave that made up the throne room of the Dark Lord, and the black-cloaked figures within.

"Now that Dumbledore is no longer a factor, I think it's high time we move to a more... suitable location, don't you think." Red eyes watched with amusement as Lucius flinched, though he recovered quickly.

"Do you have a suitable location in mind, my Lord? If I may make a few suggestions...?"

"I was thinking..." Voldemort interrupted. "That maybe one of my followers would be willing to offer their comfortable manor to their poor Lord, who had to sleep in a cave." His lips came up in a smirk as Lucius looked about again, as though for a way out.

"Of...of course, my Lord. I'm sure any of your followers would be delighted to volunteer their house for you. Maybe the Lestrange...?"

"I was talking of your own, actually." A dark chuckle filled room as those within laugh at Lucius Malfoy. "After all, you own your freedom to me, don't you. This would be a start towards repaying that debt."

"Certainly, my Lord." Lucius searched for any support, but as his wife and child isn't in the cave, it was in vain. He swallowed thickly. "It would be my honor."

"Excellent. I'm glad we can have this conversation." Voldemort looked away from the defeated Malfoy to the gathered Death Eaters. "Prepare to move to Malfoy Manor. I want us set up within the week."

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Luna Lovegood laid back on her bed, admiring the painting she had place on her ceiling the previous summer, with the faces of her closest, and possibly only friends, thinking of one in particular. Honestly, it's getting a little irritating how she could be perfectly happy thinking about the mating habits of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, and have him popping into her head without warning. For a moment she wondered if the creatures could be trying to distract her from thinking about them, before dismissing the thought. Snorkacks can't read your mind after all.

She turn in her bed, now facing the door, and wondered what is he doing now. On the train ride back from Hogwarts, she had noticed that the Golden Trio is nowhere to be found. She had asked Neville and Ginny about it, and received an answer from Ginny that they were staying at Hogwarts for some reason. She seems pretty put out by it too.

Making a mental note to herself to check Ginny over for Wrackspurts the next time she see her, Luna got off her bed and wandered over to her trunk, humming softly as she went. Brushing the salt off the top of the trunk (to keep the Blibbering Humdinger away from her possession), she opened it and reached an arm in, pulling out a small notebook bound in black leather. She removed her wand from behind her ear and tapped the book once, causing a shimmer of rainbow to run across the surface of the leather. Nodding to herself, she tucked the notebook into a pocket and replaced her wand, before skipping downstairs. Perhaps she'll be in time after all...

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This isn't a fight, not really. After their explosive entrance, Aunt Bellatrix had them pinned down in a tight arc of spellfire. They were fast enough to get behind cover, but she was chipping away at it with every spell that missed. Already half the room is ruined, and they are running out of cover to hide behind. Draco sighed, he was bored already. He had come expecting a fight, but this... This is disappointing. His mother would be disappointed that he did not have a chance to show her what he learned.

Then one of Aunt Bellatrix's spells broke through the remains of the counter, reveling Weasley's back. A _stupefy _knocked him into the wall and out of action.

The split-second that Bellatrix's attention wasn't on him, Harry send his cover, half of a heavy oak table, flying towards her with the strongest banishing charm he can manage, before turning to check on Ron.

Bellatrix grin. Finally they are starting to fight back. She fired a severing charm at the table, and raised an eyebrow when it did nothing, before she was forced to dive to the side to avoid the heavy projectile crushing her. '_Potter had actually taken the time to reinforce the table before banishing it. Interesting.' _She thought, sparing a glance at the table sticking halfway out of the wall. '_Not many would have thought to do that.'_ Before she could think farther, she was forced to roll away, as a number of wooden splinters slammed into the ground where she laid just a moment ago, thrown by the mudblood from the debris left from her earlier attacks. She had just gotten to her feet when a shield suddenly appeared in front of her, protecting her from the follow up stunner from Potter, sending splashes of light across the room. Draco had entered the fight.

There was a lull for the moment, as Potter and Draco sized each other up, while the mudblood stood up across her. For a moment Bellatrix admire her courage. No sign of fear on her, even when she was facing one who was arguably the most dangerous of the Death Eaters. She grinned then, a dangerous smile.

"Ron?" Hermione asked tensely from the side of her mouth.

"Stunned." Was the answer, equally tense. He flexed his wand, preparing to cast. "Cover me."

Potter exploded into action, diving to the right, while shooting stunners at Draco. Good, That's much better. Potter has improved enough to eliminate wand movements from his spells, But would it be enough to challenge him? Lazily, Draco lifted his wand, and another shield intercepted Potter's spells.

Beside him, Hermione had levitated the broken chair legs around them, pointing at Bellatrix splintered end first. Bellatrix raised her wand, but Hermione did not wait to see what she would do. With a flick of her wand, she send the legs flying, over a dozen strong, towards Bellatrix. The dark witch responded with a _Incendo, _pouring enough power into the spell to vaporise those on collision course with her body, allowing the remaining to fly past without touching her. Another swish and flick sent some of the wooden debris through the flame, which she allow to die down enough that her projectiles did not burn up, but rather turn them into flaming lances that, while not big enough to do much damage, it would at least distract the mudblood witch.

Of course, Hermione did not stick around to get impaled. As soon as she sent her chair legs, Hermione had ran to one side, out of the way of direct fire. There she waited, wand ready, till she could see Bellatrix through the flame. Once her outline was clearly visible, Hermione send a stream of spells at Bellatrix, chaining them together so that there isn't a gap between the spells large enough for Bellatrix to take advantage of and retaliate.

Bellatrix had no problem with the spells, of course. They are first year stuff, learned by every Hogwarts student in their first few charms lessons. Easy to break, and easy to block. It's sole purpose is to distract her, and hold her attention. Once Hermione saw that Bellatrix's shield was firmly pointed in her direction, she chanced a glance at Harry, who was doing something similar on the other side of the room, raining spells on Malfoy.

Harry caught her eye and nodded, once. Simultaneously, they shot a spell at their target, gleamed from an old dueling book that exploded against their shields in a flash of bright light, similar to a muggle flash grenade. Disoriented, they did not see the stunners that flew into their unguarded flank. Harry's hit Bellatrix on the shoulder, spinning her around once, before dropping to the ground. Hermione nailed Malfoy at the knee, knocking the feet off him and cracking his head on the hard stone floor.

Keeping his wand trained on Bellatrix, Harry slowly stood up from his crouched position as across the room Hermione did the same.

"You alright?" Harry asked, when they met at the center.

"I'm fine." Hermione answered. "And you? Any injuries?"

"Nothing a good night sleep can't cure." Harry laughed, as relieve suddenly flood his body. They did it, survived a Death Eater attack, one by Bellatrix of all people. He laughed again. It felt good.

"Well, let's get Ron and get out of here then, before more of them arrive." Hermione said, chuckling herself. She started to turn to their fallen friend, before suddenly stiffing and topple to the ground.

"Hermione!" Surprised and shocked, Harry rushed to her aid, before looking up for at her assailant. A woman in a dark blue robe stood above where Ron laid, her hood pulled forward so that her face hid in the shadow. Her wand was pointed at him. When Harry raise his own wand, however, the unknown woman's wand whipped to Ron, her entire stance said that she could curse Ron long before Harry's spell can hit her.

Furious at himself for failing to check behind him, Harry had no choice but to drop his wand and put his hand up. He was still scowling at her when the stunner hit him, dropping him to the ground.

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Narcissa pushed back her hood as she sigh in relieve. She was glad that she did not have to actually fight him. He would have wiped the floor with her. Stepping up to the others before her, she revived her sister and son before bounding the teen all in rope . It was a good idea to come in from the muggle side of the Cauldron instead of the Diagon Alley side like Bellatrix and Draco did.

Bellatrix groan as she stood up, shaking her head to clear it from the stunner induced headache. She stopped mid-shake, staring with some surprise at the bound form of The Boy-Who-Lived, then at her sister, and back again.

"What?" Narcissa asked, when Bellatrix's eyes land on her again.

"Oh, nothing." Bellatrix replied. "I'm just surprised you managed to beat him. Maybe it's a good thing you came along after all."

Draco stood over the mudblood, looking down at her still smiling face, frozen when she was stunned. His thoughts are racing, but they always came back to the same conclusion. Though he was dueling Potter, it was the mudblood that caused him to lost, the mudblood that stunned him and allow his mother to see this disgraceful side of him. He lifted his foot to kick her, but placed it down. No. It would not do to hurt her when she was unconscious. He wants her awake and aware when he take his revenge. He will duel her again, and beat her down before Potter, grate her into the dust and humiliate her as she had humiliated him before his mother. There will be no interference again next time. Once the Dark Lord give him leave, he will have his revenge...

"Draco, we're leaving." Aunt Bellatrix called to him, the still form of Potter and Weasley floating behind her. Draco shook his head, and levitated the mudblood before joining his aunt and mother around the portkey.

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Tom creped out of his hiding place under the stairs and into his trashed bar, groaning at the mess. His hands shook in fear (Death Eaters in his bar!) but also in shame, that he had hid, and left the teens to fight alone. One more wand might have made a difference....

_But you don't know that for sure! They are trained killers. What can you, a mere barkeeper do?_

Harry Potter was only a student, and he had stood his ground.

_Harry Potter is the Chosen One, and besides he is a hero, beating You-Know-Who before. He is different from common people like me._

But still... Mere children against Death Eaters!

_Don't think about that now. Nothing you can do at the moment. Just tell Dumbledore. He'll know what to do._

Dumbledore is dead....

_Minerva then. _

Tom nearly dropped the floo power, his hands was shaking so much, but he managed to toss some into the fire to make the call.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and His Witches

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Sorry again for the lateness of this chapter. 12 hours workday don't leave much space for writing...

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Chapter 4:

**------------------------------**

_I believed in his vision, you know. The Dark Lord's, I mean. His vision to rid the Wizarding World of mudbloods and return rule to the Pureblood families, where it was mean to be in the first place. _

_It was during the aftermath of the fall of the Dark Lord Gindelwald. During that time, there was a massive increase in the number of mudblood students that attended Hogwarts, due to the boom in birth of muggles after the muggle World War. For the first time in a long while, the number of mudblood students actually outnumber that of the Purebloods. This state of matter was not acceptable, of course._

_When I received a letter during my education at Hogwarts, brought by a black owl, inviting all concerned Pureblood to a meeting, I didn't think much of it at first. It was only when my friend Avery mentioned that it would be held at his place that my interest was pinged._

_Avery must have been busy that summer, for when I arrived at his manor, it seemed as if all the Pureblood family was in attendance. The Lestrange brothers, the Black sisters, Dolohov, Mulciber , Nott, Malfoy and others, most of whom would go to form the core of the Death Eaters. _

_Tom Riddle was a charming man back then; tall, dark-haired, handsome. Every inch the Pureblood prince. He welcomed us warmly and in the course of conversation that followed, told us all about his vision._

_To this day, I could not remember the exact words he used, but his vision swept me away. As he spoke, I saw in my mind's eye the spread of Muggles and mudblood into our world, and the pollution and destruction they would bring with them. Pureblood values changed and diluted. Our most ancient and time-honored customs and traditions swept aside for their own barbaric rituals. I could not tell you how long he spoke, but by the end of it, I was convicted that the mudbloods was a bane and must be destroyed. _

_The rest, I'm sure, you know already... What was that? You wish for me to tell you anyway? Very well, if you insist._

_We organized ourselves into the Death Eaters, with Tom Riddle, now calling himself Lord Voldemort, at our head. _

_We tried to stop the spread of influence from mudbloods and muggles, and was actually making progress towards eliminating them when interference came from the Ministry, and especially that vigilante group known as the Order of the Phoenix. _

_You know, I really don't understand. Why did you aid them when you know full well the dangers of muggles. Was it because of the killing? We had no real choice in that, you understand. It's the only way to stem the tide..._

_No matter. We are lost now. The Dark Lord is the only one that dared to act when he sees the danger. You will regret standing against us one day. When the Wizard World falls to the muggles and mudblood, when all that we love and value are gone; then you will see, but it will be too late. It is too late already..._

_Harry Potter has spelled our doom..._

'Interview of an unknown Death Eater, captured after the first raise of the Dark Lord Voldemort.'

----------------------

Voldemort sat brooding in front of a log fire in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. He had just receive word of the successful capture of Potter, and he was quite looking forward to having a word or two with the boy. He is now asleep in one of the many guest rooms of the Manor, along with his mudblood friend and the blood traitor. Briefly, Voldemort wondered how Malfoy felt, hosting the Boy-Who-Lived in his own house, before dismissing the thought as unimportant.

A knock on the door disturbed his musing and Voldemort waved his wand, opening the door and allowing a visibly nervous lackey to enter, bowing and scrapping, into the room.

"What is it." Voldemort hissed, not looking up from the flames.

"My Lord, the blood traitor has been awaken, as per you instructions."

Voldemort sat up, and a slow smile appeared on his face, making the lackey gulp.

"Excellent. Bring our guest up if you would. I believe I would like to have a few words with him." A pale, long finger ran up his yew wand, making the lackey squeak in fear before catching himself.

"Ye... Yes, my Lord." He managed to stammered out, before turning and all but fled from the room.

Voldemort allowed himself a snort in amusement before schooling his features. A wave of his wand pushed the fire higher in the hearth, lightening up the room. Another wave produced an armchair from thin air. Voldemort snort again, unable to help himself.

_Dumbledore would be impressed..._

Decoration of the room done, he settled himself down to wait for the blood traitor. According to Draco, this Weasley fancies himself a chess master. Let's see how well he play...

--------------------------

Narcissa stared in horror at the destroyed remains of her living room. It has not even been a day yet, but the invading Death Eaters had already demolished half of the grand manor that was Malfoy manor.

Empty firewiskey bottles rolled about the room and a number of the lower ranking Death Eaters lazed about, calling for more alcohol from time to time. The trash that seems to follow any large gathering had piled up in the corners and the stale smell of unwashed bodies hung over the room.

The single house elf simply wasn't able to keep up, as the men kept him popping all over the place in response to their various orders for food and alcohol. The poor elf's sensibilities kept screaming at him to clean up, but the orders did not let up enough for him to do so. Twinkly did not even have time to punish himself for letting the mess pile up! Oh, how Twinkly missed Dobby at times like this...

Narcissa spun around to her husband, pointing a shanking finger at the mess and gapping at him, too worked up to even speak.

"I know, I know..." The man sighed, raising a hand in defeat. "But it's our Lord's orders. There is nothing I can do."

"Is something the matter, mother?" Draco asked, coming down the stairs from where he had deposited the mudblood witch, non too gently, mind you, in the guest room reserved for them.

Narcissa turned to Draco, mouth still working silently. He frowned, following her finger towards the mess. His frown intensified when he saw the state of the room. Gently pushing past his mother, Draco walked into the room, a flick of his wrist brought his wand to his hand.

One of the ne'er-do-well was laughing at something his friend said, hard enough that he did not notice the others falling silent or Draco coming up behind him. His loud guffaws were cut off abruptly when Draco booted him off the sofa.

"Wha'cha gone do that for?" The man came up sputtering, but froze when he found a wand between his eyes.

Draco looked up as the noise level dropped, the Death Eaters noticing what happened. His wand did not waver as he took in the glares of the assembled group, noting a few whose hands twitch towards their wands.

"Get out, now." Draco said at last, his voice flat, and his gaze swept the room to include them all.

"The Dark Lord ordered us to set up here." One of them, braver (or perhaps stupider) shouted.

"That may be true," Lucius spoke up from his position at the door, not willing to let his own son overtake him. He had enough embarrassment backing down from the inner circle already, and a chance to lord over the lower ranks had just present itself. "But you have sorely tested our hospitality, and have overstayed your welcome. I would suggest you leave my house, before I unleash my son on you."

And Draco, as if on cue, brought his wand about and fired a _Reducto _at the Death Eater that questioned him earlier, blasting one shoulder off his robes, just inches away from his ear.

"Leave!" Draco repeated coldly.

They left, with many a backward glance filled with anger, many of them murmuring as they retrieve their baggages and filed into the floo.

"The Dark Lord will hear of this." The last Death Eater threaten before he entered the floo. "You watch yourself, Malfoy. You will not be on top forever."

Draco lifted his wand, and the man paled, before scrambling for the floo power.

Lucius walked up to Draco as the last man disappear into the fireplace and he lowered his wand. "You do know that I would have to answer for that, do you?"

And Draco looked up at his father, gray eyes unreadable, before shrugging his shoulders and tucking his wand away.

"They were upsetting mother." Was all he said, before he turned and walked towards his room, Narcissa now speechless for another reason.

-------------------------------

"Dammit, Minerva! What the hell were you thinking?" Mad-eye Moody was nearly screaming, as he paced the office, his wooden peg-leg thumping in agitation. "You know damn well that Voldemort is after the boy. What possessed you to let the boy go without an escort?"

The Headmistress drew herself up in her chair, her face cold with anger.

"It was the choice of Mr. Potter. He does not wish to endanger the Order, and decided that speed will serve better then protection."

"Oh he did, did he?" Moody yelled, shaking his fist for emphasis. "And since when did he know better than us what is good for him?"

"Since Dumbledore entrusted him with this war."

That stopped Moody's pacing. He turned to stare at the Headmistress in disbelieve.

"He what?"

"You know that there is a prophecy between Mr. Potter and You-Know-Who." McGonagall continued. "And I have had several long talks with the three of them. It is the opinion of Miss Granger, and I agree with her, that we are doing Mr. Potter a terrible disservice by coddling him.

"Dumbledore would disagree with you." Moody grunted, and sat down heavily on the chair before the table.

"Well, Dumbledore is dead, isn't he."

"Are you sure you should be talking like that while he is around?" Moody asked, pointing at the portrait of Dumbledore with a jerk of his thumb.

"Don't worry. His portrait is disabled at the moment." Headmistress McGonagall sighed and reached for her tea. "It's the first thing I learned after I took over this office."

"Why is that?" Moody asked, as she took a sip of her tea.

"That is because he wouldn't shut up!" McGonagall burst out, placing the teacup on the table with more force then needed. "Forever interrupting my work with his 'advices' and 'suggestions'"

Moody's only response was a raised eyebrow.

"There am I, minding my own business and trying to figure out what to do for the next school year, and I'll hear him commenting. 'I think, my dear Minerva, that you should...', or 'For the greater good, it would be better to...' While I appreciate advice as much as anyone else, it's my school now!"

"And so you shut him up." Moody summarized as McGonagall heaved, recovering from her rant. "Goddammit, Minerva. I didn't think you'd have that in you"

"I apologize. I don't know what came over me." McGonagall said at last, when she had recover her breath.

"Nah, It's fine." Moody waved her off. "However, we still have a problem. What are we going to do about Potter?"

"Well, I was hoping I could ask you to mount a rescue mission for him."

"I thought as much." Moody thought for a moment. "I'll need more men though. Can you contact the eldest Weasley kid? He's a curse breaker, isn't he?"

McGonagall nodded.

"I'll go grab Tonks." He stood up with a clank, and made his way to the fireplace. "We'll meet at the Leaky Cauldron."

A wash of green light later, McGonagall stood up herself, to make the needed firecall.

---------------------------

Luna stood silently on the second-to-last step on stairs, clutching the book tightly to her. Patiently she waited until a thunderous snore broke the quiet of the house before she hopped off the stairs, skipping the last step. It had always given her away in the past.

The living room was awash with the moon's slivery light, broken by bars of shadows casted by the window grilling. Luna made her way carefully though the room, taking great care to step only on the light portion of the room, avoiding the shadows. Who knows what lies in their depths, and Luna wasn't looking to find out tonight.

When she reached the fireplace, she dashed off a note for her father that she left on the mantelpiece. A whispered _Incendio_ and a pitch of floo powder later, Luna stepped into the fire and called out a name. A second later, she was gone.

------------------


	5. Chapter 5

Harry Potter and His Witches

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: A little editing done to this chapter.

------------------------------

Chapter 5:

**------------------------------ **

_This isn't right, I know. But increasingly I find myself asking this question. 'Who is Draco Malfoy?' _

_Of course I should know the answer, shouldn't I? I am his mother after all, and he is my son. Isn't he?_

_The Draco Malfoy that I knew was a whiny, immature brat that was coddled and spoiled all his life. His father's son, he followed closely after his father, and was never happy in my company alone. The perpetual child, despite his age of sixteen. That is the son I knew, the Draco I loved..._

_After his disastrous sixth year at Hogwarts, he returned a changed man. His confidence in his father to protect him was broken beyond repair, he spend most of his time brooding in his room, angry and sullen. _

_Then the Dark Lord ordered Severus Snape to take him in hand, and build him up as a Death Eater. He was gone for a month._

_When he returned, he was unrecognizable. Oh, his features did not change, nor his hair or any such things, though he had allowed it to run free from it's usual slicked back look. No, it was his expression, his eyes. _

_He moved quietly now, confidently; sure and secure in his powers. He is stronger now, no doubt. But the look on his face, that perpetual calm, it is alien to the face of the boy I knew. It belongs to a stranger..._

_Before, he was constantly seeking the the approval and affection of his father, while ignoring me as much as possible. Now, he seems indifferent to Lucius, yet striving to impress me. The recent display in the living room a prime example. I am left flat-footed with his new behavior, and even Lucius did not know what to do with him. _

_Is such reversal of life-long habits natural? _

_It is a terrible thing to say of your own child, I know. But this new, intense young man, who is wearing the face of my son... I find myself distrustful and even fearful of him. _

_What happened during the month they were away, Snape and Draco? How did he change into this stranger? I wish to know, and yet, I fear the answer. Is my son Draco still there, somewhere under the layers of the new Draco, or is he lost for good, replaced by this stone-faced version of my son?_

_Sadly, if my plan goes well, I will not have the chance to find out. Part one had worked, and Potter is now in the hands of the Dark Lord. I will aid in his escape, creating a bond of gratitude. From what I heard from Draco, Potter is the honorable type. He will be honor-bound to help me stay free of the Dark Lord then. I cannot pass up on this chance, or I'll never find another that can stand against the Dark Lord and have a snowball's chance in hell of winning._

_Potter... I wonder how he felt, facing someone pointing a wand at his friends, and him helpless to prevent it. He wouldn't even know who it was. That hood had a concealment charm woven into it. He wouldn't have been able to identify my face. He would only know that it was an unknown woman, most likely a Death Eater, that had defeated him. He would not connect that unknown, faceless woman with me, who isn't even a Death Eater._

_Yes, I have planned well. Yet, why does it feels so wrong?_

-------------------------------

Ron Weasley was understandably nervous. He walked slowly, hampered by a pounding headache, spurred on by the wand poking in the small of his back. The Death Eater that is now escorting him was silent; Not even his footsteps could be heard. Or it could just be that his own nervous shuffle on the wooden floor had muffed that of the Death Eater.

Ron chanced another glance behind him at the Death Eater (Ron was fairly sure it's a male. Though the mask and robes make it a little hard to determine even that.) The only response was another prod with the wand, a silent threat should he stop.

They were passing one of the many doors within this long corridor when a hand on his shoulders stopped Ron. They have reached their destination.

Keeping the wand pointed at Ron, the Death Eater reached over his shoulder to rap the door smartly three times.

The door swung open smoothly on well-oiled hinges, without a sound. Somehow it felt unnerving to Ron, who grew up in such a rickety place that a silent door seemed unnatural.

Another poke of the wand, and Ron stumbled forward, and felt more then heard the door close behind him.

"Come, Ron Weasley. Sit by the fire with me." A voice invited, cold and high. Ron looked in the direction the voice was coming from, but was unable to see who was speaking. There was a fireplace, so there's plenty of light. However, the speaker was seated on a sofa that had its back towards him; all he saw was the pale, bald head over the top of the sofa's back. He suppressed a shiver.

Slowly, Ron made his way over to the fireplace, seeing more of the figure as he did. He knew who the person was, of course, but it was still a shock when Voldemort raised his head to him, and Ron saw clearly the hairless head, pale skin and red, silted eyes of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort smiled, a slight twitching of his lips upwards, and Ron filched back. His hand reached for his wand, but of course it wasn't with him.

"Please, take a seat." Voldemort said after a while, waving his hand towards the sofa across from him, every inch the gracious host. "Don't worry, I merely wish to speak with you. For now."

And Ron, a little disbelieving that he was still alive (This is Voldemort we're talking about here after all), sat slowly down on the indicated seat, keeping his eyes on Voldemort. Voldemort however, did not seemed bothered. Instead, he had shifted his attention to the small coffee table in between them and was studying the chessboard on it.

"What do you think of the chances that White could win this game?" Voldemort asked, when Ron was seated. Despite his fears, Ron looked down to the chessboard. It did not take him long to reach an answer.

"White has no chance." He replied.

"Ah. You agree with me then." Voldemort said, seemly pleased. "You know who they represent, do you?"

"Yes..." He would be a fool if he didn't. It was hardly subtle, the massage. King, Queen and a single pawn on the White side, the whole army on the Black, arranged such that every move would result in a checkmate. Yes, White was doomed indeed.

"Tell me then, would you be interested in something like this?" So saying, Voldemort reached out and plucked the white pawn out of the board, replacing it with a black. And Ron, looking at the board, saw that it was in perfect position to take the King, and place itself beside the Queen.

"I couldn't..." Ron looked up, shaken, into red eyes boring into him. "But why? You don't need me..."

"Yes, I don't." Voldemort answered. "But I'm offering anyway. For your sake."

"My sake?"

"Yes." Voldemort leaned back and folded his hands in front of his face, leaving his eyes to gaze out over the arch of his fingers. "You know of my mission, don't you, and that of my death eaters. Or one version of it, at least."

Ron remained silent, thoughts rushing in his head, though one dominates. '_What does You-know-who wants...._'"

"We are not fighting just for the sake of fighting, you know." Voldemort said. "I don't enjoy kill anymore then you do. But for the Greater Good of the Wizarding World, we do what we must. I... am no exception."

"We seek to remove the influence of muggles from the Wizarding World." Voldemort continued, blood-red eyes boring into Ron's, his voice pounding into his head. "We have been weaken, our magic made dull by the influx of muggle blood."

"What we want is the return of the glory days of old. The days when magic flowed so much more freely, when wands were not necessary to perform magic. What we desire is nothing less then Avalon itself! Surely you, a pure-blood, can understand and appreciate what we are trying to accomplish here."

Ron sat, stunned. _This _was what the Dark Lord is after? He had heard the legends, fables and myth, of course. Every pure blood family has, and the Weasley are as pure as they come, even if they are dirt poor. But still, to actually try to resurrect those same legends...

"That is why we need to clean the taint of mudbloods off from us, remove their influence from the Wizarding World. What does mudbloods have that wizards cannot better? We who holds power at our fingertips..." Voldemort's voice had dropped to a whisper now, but Ron had no problem hearing every word, as if they were spoken directly into his brain.

"Come! I am offering you a chance to join us, to aid us in this noble goal." Now Voldemort leaned forward, and his eyes are all that Ron can see. "This is your chance to create history!"

Still Ron did not answer. It was too much. Too grand, too big... He couldn't...

"Surely you can't say that you are satisfied with your lot in life, Weasley?"

"Wha...."

"Just one of the many Weasley? Least amongst your brothers? Even your sister has greater claim to fame then you, as the only female Weasley in a generation. What is your claim?"

"I... Harry..." Ron wasn't thinking clearly, Voldemort's red eyes had captured his gaze, and his thoughts were whirling about.

"Harry Potter, you say? Are you certain you are happy being his sidekick? To be compared to him forever, and be found wanting?" Voldemort's words were calm and even, but their effect on Ron was anything but. He felt his headache return, a pounding just behind his eyes. "Does the Boy-Who-Lived even need you?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Ron cried, slamming one hand onto the table, making the chess pieces jump. "Harry is my friend! My best friend!"

"Best friends, is it..." Voldemort's voice was quietly scoffing. "What kind of best friends leave his mate out of their adventures? The only time you were present was first year, when you beat the giant chessboard, and fifth year, when you have to press him to even include you at all!"

Ron was clutching his head now, but he couldn't tear his eyes from Voldemort's, and his thoughts were a giant mess. Random flashes appearing before his mind's eyes; of him staring at the rockfall down at the Chamber of Secrets, with only Lockhart for company; of Harry's gleeful face as he recount the story of how he and Hermione rescued Sirius during their third year, while Ron was laid up in the hospital wing; Staring at the maze, looking for any sign of Harry, left behind at the spectator's stand. These and more appeared now, lending credence to Voldemort's words.

Unseen by Ron, Voldemort smiled, hidden by his hands. His legilimency dug into Weasley's mind, dragging out old hurts and old memories. It was surprisingly easy; Resentment bubbled just under the skin of Ron Weasley. His head was bowed, but even without eye contact, Voldemort's legilimency continued unabated. By now, all that was needed was a nudge here and there. His mind supplied all the rest.

"I offer a chance to you." Voldemort whispered, picking up the black pawn off the chessboard, and placed it before Weasley, along with the original white pawn. "A chance to shine, brighter then all your brothers. Brighter then even Harry Potter. All you need to do is chose. Black or White."

And Ron lifted his eyes, his whirling mind beginning to quieten down as he locked onto the two chess pieces before him. Black or White. It seems a simple enough choice... His hand shivered as he lifted it to hover over the two pieces.

"What did Potter ever offer you?" Voldemort pressed, his legilimency dragging up thoughts and images, and his secret fear, so strong that he had buried it deep under his natural fears of spiders, so that he need not look at it anymore. Voldemort grabbed hold of it and pulled it out, and forced Ron face-to-face with it.

"I would even spare the mudblood for you, if you wish." Voldemort continued, even as the image of Hermione flashed before his mind's eyes. Hermione and _Harry_...together...

Ron's head snapped up. "Hermione..."

"Yes," Voldemort nodded. "She can be yours, if you make the right choice. Fame, fortune, the girl... Everything, yours..."

"Mine..." Ron was shaking, seeing again the chessboard, White surrounded by Black. A hopeless situation. A black pawn in perfect position to capture the King and take his place beside the Queen...

Desperately, Ron squeezed shut his eyes and reached blindly for his chosen piece.

--------------------------------

Narcissa hurried along the darken halls of the manor. Draco had retired for the little remaining time of the night, and Lucius had retreated into his office, to think up his excuse for removing the lower ranks of the Death Eaters from his house to the Dark Lord.

Narcissa nearly laughed out loud at the thought. To think that Lucius Malfoy, once the strongest and most self-confident of men, now reduced to begging at the feet of the Dark Lord. It was so pathetic it's laughable.

When Narcissa first met Lucius Malfoy, that strength and self-confident was what attracted her to him, and the reason why she agreed to his proposal. He was several years her senior, during her Hogwarts years, he stood out among the boys as a natural leader. Charming to boot.

His talents enable him to take leadership position within the Death Eaters when the Dark Lord recruited him, and she was proud of him then. He was at the forefront of change of the Wizarding World then. A better husband she could not imagine at that time.

But then the Dark Lord fell, and suddenly the Death Eaters were being hunted. And Narcissa was unpleasantly surprised to see Lucius changed his tune so quickly, insisting that he had been _imperiused _and spending money like water in bribes to keep himself out of prison. But as Draco just turned one, she wasn't too upset about it, just glad that he managed to stay with the family.

Until he started to return late, choosing to spend his time drinking with those Death Eaters that managed to keep themselves out of prison, and reminiscing about the good ol' days. He came home drunk often in those years.

During those years, he neglected the Malfoy business, preferring instead to lament the loss of the Dark Lord. And Narcissa watched the family accounts plunged into the red, drained first from funding the Dark Lord, then the massive bribes required to remain out of Azkaban. Lucius wasn't bothered when she had finally shown the accounts to him, pleading with him to pay attention to the family business. His confidence in the Malfoy fortune was absolute, and he simply could not imagine that his family resources could ever be in trouble. So Narcissa was forced to take things into her own hands.

Even so, she was hampered by her lack of experience. She wasn't raised with the necessary skills to take over a business after all. But she persevered and learned, and some years even manage to turn a profit. However, most times she had to supplement their earnings with the sales of various objects, mostly from the stash of dark items hidden under the drawing room.

When the Dark Lord returned, he was one of the first to throw himself at his feet, and Narcissa was left to wonder where the self-confident Lucius went to. Of course, he immediately placed the Malfoy fortune to the cause again, disregarding the lesson of the past, so eager was he to remain in the inner circle of the Death Eaters.

Then Lucius had to get himself captured by young Potter, and thrown into Azkaban, and she had taken the chance to limit the amount of money that flowed into Voldemort's operations. But with Draco nearing his age of majority, she feared that all her efforts would be in vain. She had tried to win Draco away from the Dark Lord, even going so far as to plea with Severus Snape to take Draco's place in his mission to kill Dumbledore. And for a while it seems that her efforts would pay off.

But when Draco returned from his month-long training trip with Snape, she saw her hopes dashed. The new Draco was even more fervent for the Dark Lord then his father, and all hopes of keeping any part of the remaining Malfoy fortune went down the drain, especially when Lucius was rescued from Azkaban.

Now the only money that she had access to that was safe from the Dark Lord was her dowry, and she would do anything to keep them away from the Dark Lord, especially when she did not expect the Malfoy fortune to last much longer. Soon, it might be the only source of money they have.

Shaking off her morbid thoughts, Narcissa turned a corner of the hallways, and finally reached her destination, the guest rooms that was converted to prisons for the Boy-Who-Lived and his friends. With him stunned and locked in, and without any wands, the Death Eaters evidently felt safe enough not to mount a guard. So there was nobody to stop her when Narcissa tapped her wand against the door to unlock it.

Carefully she turned the handle, and pushed open the door. She was expecting Potter to be asleep still, so she was surprised when a hand reached out to her and grabbed her robes, pulling her in so hard that she was left sprawled on the floor, her wand clattering away from her. She had barely lifted her head when she was staring at the jagged end of a broken-off chair leg, held by a pissed-off Harry Potter.

--------------------------------


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and His Witches

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: No excuses for the late chapter, but a general lost of interest in writing this. I once had this chapter open for half hour, but didn't managed to write a single word.

------------------------------

Chapter 6:

**------------------------------ **

_I believed in his vision, you know. The Dark Lord's vision, I mean. A world where the Pureblood rule over the Wizarding world, without the taint of mudbloods. A world where we can regain the glory of the past, when we were the masters of all we survey. I believed it could be done, and with the Dark Lord at our head, I believed that we were the ones to do it. You would have done the same, had you been there, heard him speak._

_But over time, that ideal changed, along with the Dark Lord. As the years past he seemed to grow colder and more distanced. He tolerated failure less often, and his punishment became hasher. When the Pureblood families that had supported him protested, he turned to another source for manpower. _

_The worst types of wizards were recruited, criminals and murderers all. They don't believe, or even care about the cause. They just want to kill and destroy. The Dark Lord set them loose on his opponents. _

_The things they did... They changed the impression of the public. From a movement to regain Pureblood pride, the Death Eater became known as a murdering bunch of lunatic extremist. With this new breed of Death Eaters, the Dark Lord pressured the old families. Though the more level-headed members of the inner circle tried to reason with the Dark Lord, he would not be reasoned with, and for disagreeing with him, he ordered their deaths._

_I'm no fool, I know what the Death Eaters are. While some, mostly the inner circle, are of noble breed, the rank and file Death Eaters were nothing more than scums, knowing nothing of our purpose. They only wish to kill and destroy. _

_The werewolf Greyback is a prime example, and one of the worst of the lot. When the full moon came, he would lock himself with anyone that he could find, in order to infect them with his curse. Even children were not spared, and that is far more then I can tolerate. Children are the future of our country, and the purpose for which I fight. It ranks me that I can do nothing while he prance around gleefully telling all that would listen of his latest conquest._

_With such in his ranks, the old Pureblood families did not dare to raise their voices against the Dark Lord, for fear that he would kill them all in their sleep. He often did anyway._

_----_

_Sometimes, I wonder why. _

_Why did the Dark Lord changed? What could have happened that changed him in such drastic ways, from charismatic leader to feared Dark Lord? Or was he the Dark Lord all along, only adopting the polite young man to fool us all?_

_Why did he resort to such heavy-handed means to change the world? Had we followed our original plans, it would have taken longer, but no one would had needed to die. The Death Eaters were a political party at first, but somehow, we have changed into this... this farce. How are we to change the world if we kill everyone in it first?_

_I have had enough. Of killing innocent people and seeing people running in fear of me. I never sought this. I'm not a killer, you know. I just want the old days back. The days when Pureblood ruled over our country, without fear of muggles and their strange ideas and weird ways. I just want a country I can be proud of to hand to my children. Is that too much to ask?_

_And now, I fear it may be too late. The Dark Lord had killed so many that any victory the Death Eaters won would be empty ones. What victory could there be in empty land and barren hills. It is the people that determine the country, but the way the Dark Lord is going about it, there will be no one left to rule over. _

_I want out before that happens. I can no longer go along with the Dark Lord's plan, if indeed he has one. Nothing can be build by killing, and that seems to be all that he is doing these days. Muggles or Pureblood, it doesn't seem to matter to him anymore. Just last month, the Prewett was attacked, and they were the purest of blood! Who can say then, that they will never be the target of the Dark Lord?_

Interview of a Death Eater deserter, two days before he was found dead, in his locked and warded room.

_---------------------------- _

Luna skipped through the corridors of what seems like an old fashion manor. A huge expense of windows covered one side of the walls from floor to ceiling, bathing it in the silvery glow of the moon. The maroon carpet covering the entire floor area was so soft that Luna could feel herself sinking slightly with every skip she skipped. It did muffle the sound of her footsteps, so that was something to be grateful for. It wouldn't do to scare off the blue-winged Bluggers guiding her. She would be lost in minutes if she had to navigate this old manor along.

Her eyes flickered about, tracking the movement of something that only she could see, following its lead. Her head snapped sideways suddenly, towards a shadowed alcove hidden between a pedestal holding an enormous vase and a suit of silver armor. Without hesitation, Luna slipped into the alcove, mere seconds before a door ahead of her swung open, and two person in black robes strolled out.

Hidden in the shadows, Luna watched as they pasted by close enough that she could reach out and touch their cloaks, if she had wished to. But she kept her hand to herself, and the pair walked away unaware that an intruder was within arm's reach.

Luna breathed a small sigh of relief, nodding her thanks to the air, before extracting herself from the alcove. A quick look to confirm that the pair was gone, and she set forth once again.

---------------------------------

"My Lord, why are we bothering with the blood traitor?" Bellatrix asked from her position at her master's feet, her head resting on the armrest of the sofa the Dark Lord was sitting on, hands folded under her chin.

"Why indeed..." Voldemort mused as he held up the black chess piece, turning in around in his hands. "Of this so-called 'Golden Trio', one might argue that the Weasley is the weak link. With him gone, Potter will surely fall."

"And what of the mudblood, Master?" She asked, a certain eagerness in her voice. "Should I deal with her?"

"Leave her be." Voldemort replied, setting down the black pawn in its previous position on the board. "Though she is closer to Potter, she is but a mudblood, and therefore beneath notice."

"Of course." Bellatrix agreed verbally, but in her mind, she frowned. She had dueled the mudblood, even if it was for only a short while. She wasn't so sure if the mudblood should be so easily dismissed.

"It doesn't matter anyway. She is but a tool for me to use against Potter." Voldemort continued, now stroking the queen with one long finger. "As are you, my dear Bella."

"I live to do your will, Master." Bellatrix replied from bowed head, honored that the Dark Lord would find her useful against his hated foe.

"Yes, yes, you do" His hand fell from the chessboard to the top of her head, and pushed through her thick hair, petting her like one would with a dog.

-----------------------------------

"Are you sure it's here?" Luna whispered, stopping beside a nondescript door, with neither markings nor signs to differentiate it from the dozen or so others before. She seemed to listen for a moment, nodding once. "If you're certain then."

Quickly she pulled her wand out and tapped the door, murmuring the unlocking spell under her breath. She was rewarded when a loud click echoed around the corridors for a moment.

Carefully, she lifted the latch and pushed open the door, her wand at the ready, in case of any surprises, like a colony of humbugs, who liked to swoop over the heads of people opening doors, and can sometimes be felt as a wind. She was slightly disappointed when nothing came swooping out.

Quietly, she slipped into the room, closing the door behind her, though not completely. After all, humbug isn't the only danger in a strange room. An escape route is therefore wise to prepare, even if it is nothing more then a not-quite-closed door.

Escape route secured, Luna turned to the only piece of furniture in the room; a huge four-post bed placed right in the center of the room. The large windows along the far end of the room allowed enough light to enter the room, clearly a lady's, for Luna to make out Hermione Granger on the bed, frozen smile facing the canopy above her.

Confused, Luna turned to her guide, a question in her eyes. She then appear to be listening to someone speaking, before nodding to show her understanding.

Luna made her way to the bed and sat beside Hermione, silently watching her. While Hermione had often wasted no time in dismissing her ideas and _The Quibbler_, Luna knew it was not out of malice, like some of her other scoffers, but rather because her ideas were simply too outlandish for the orderly Hermione to accept. After working together in the DA, and later fighting their way through the Ministry of Magic, Hermione had came to accept, and even respect her, weird ideas and all. That was a far greater gift then Luna could have ever hoped to receive.

Of course, Hermione had an example in Harry Potter, who had, after getting used to her, simply absobed her into his circle of friends, and the DA. If she was grateful to Hermione for accepting her, then she owned an incalculable debt to Harry Potter for making it possible.

She paused for a moment, wondering why did her guide brought her to Hermione, rather then Harry, as she had expected. A soft brush at the back of her head knocked the thought off her head, as if reminding her the need for haste. Luna sighed and put the thought away for now, turning her attention to the stupefied witch beside her.

Slowly, Luna reached out and gently closed the eye of Hermione, taking care to work through the resistance of the stupefy spell. Eyes opened for so long would have dried out, and would hurt if awaken then. After a moment to allow her tears to work, Luna whispered the rennervate spell softy, allowing her magic to steep into Hermione, rather then the common practice of shoving the magic in. While there is often no time in the battlefield, where every wand counts, to do it slowly, it is much more comfortable this way, as there is no sudden shock to the body that was suddenly forced awake.

Luna then sat back and waited as Hermione stirred.

-----------

"So why have you called us here, Moody?" Tonks yawned, rubbing her eyes. As far as the Metamorphmagus was concern, it was far too early in the morning to wake up. Remus, who was sitting beside her seemed to agree, as he had already nodded off. Only Bill Weasley, whose job included waking up at ungodly hours, managed to remain alert.

Moody was pacing before them, peg-leg thumping on the broken wooden floor, but on hearing Tonks' question, stopped and turned back, clumping his way to the front of the group, waking up Remus with a passing kick of his peg-leg. The werewolf jumped, the unexpected kick surprising him. He looked around in confusion before gaining his bearings, and remembering the summon that brought him here.

"I'll cut straight through the chase, ladies and gentlemen." Moody said as he lean onto the table before him. "An hour ago, Tom the barkeep reported to Minerva that Harry Potter and his friends arrived at his tavern, and subsequently had an encounter with Death Eaters. They trashed the bar right good, but was out-maneuvered, and so was captured."

"WHAT!" Remus roared, jumping to his feet, knocking his chair over with his sudden movement, suddenly wide awake.

"Calm down, Remus." Moody began, but Remus wasn't about to listen. Harry was in danger! He turned to the door and was about to rush out when his legs snapped together and he fell heavily onto the floor, banging his chin against the hard floor. It stunned him long enough for Tonks to drag him onto his chair.

"I said calm down, Remus. You are not doing Harry or yourself any favor running out like that!" Moody barked, keeping his wand trained on Remus, in case it was still needed.

Remus glared mutinously, but he did subsisted a little, shoving the wolf within down. If there's a plan, he want in on it.

"We knew who was in the attack, as Tom was near enough to hear them. He identified them as Bellatrix and Draco. There is another woman with them, but as her face was covered, and she made no sound, Tom was unable to tell who it was."

"What do we do now?" Remus demanded. Unconscionably, His voice had reached the low, rasping sound that signify the wolf within is close to his skin at the moment.

"Now? We'll floo to the scene and trace the portkey. Between Weasley and me, we should be able to cover all the bases."

"I was wondering what am I doing here." Bill replied, a wiry grin on his face. "When Professor McGonagall appeared at the Barrow and holler for me, I thought I was back in Hogwarts and in trouble again."

"Let's go then." Remus growled. He stood up from his chair, pulling Tonks along with him, and stalked towards the fireplace. "No time for idle talk."

Moody sighed at the werewolf's retreating back. This is why he didn't like the operations of the Order. He far prefer the orderly ranks of the Auror corps. Thankfully he decided that the Headmistress office is a better place to hold the briefing then the tavern. If Remus had seen the trashed place, nothing would have held him back, and he'll have half-assed operatives all over the place.

Tonks had given up trying to rein in Remus and was being dragged along with a resigned look on her face. "We'll go on ahead then." She managed to call out before the roaring green flames took her and Remus away.

Moody could only shake his head again.

------------------------------------

Harry Potter woke with a start, wincing as the sudden light stabbed into his skull, his eyes watered as his tear glands started working again.

He wondered where he was for half a second before his body protested his movements, muscles stiff from enforced stillness groan when suddenly loosen. Swiftly, the memories of the duel at the tavern returned to him. Disregarding the pains of his body, he sat up and tried to take stock of his situation.

The room he was in was huge, at least in comparison to what he was used to. It was at least as big as the dormitory that he had slept in at Hogwarts, but instead of sharing with four other boys, this room appeared to be for one person's use.

The bed he was in was huge; four or five people could have slept comfortably on it without touching, assuming they don't move too much in their sleep.

The room was far more tastefully decorated, of course, but the general outline reminded Harry of the guest rooms in Grimmauld Place. He guessed, based on that observation, that he was being held at a manor of one of the old families that made up the inner core of the Death Eaters. The name Malfoy came to mind, simply because he had the most contact with them, but Harry discounted it almost at once. That family would sooner have chuck him into the dungeon, rather then kept him in such an nice room as this.

Slowly, to spare his aching body, Harry got off the bed. First thing he checked was the door. It was locked, of course. He had expected as much, but just wanted to be sure. Without his wand, he wouldn't be going out from there on his own.

The windows were next. They were huge, reaching from floor to ceiling. An experimental push opened them easily enough, but from the view, he was at least three stories up, with no foothold that he could see, even after leaning out far enough that he nearly fell anyway. Harry closed the window again. With no wand and no broom, that way is closed to him too.

He did consider tying the large expanse of curtains together, and so climb down, but he was unable to tug the curtains off their railings, even after throwing his full weight back. Apparently they were charmed not to be removed.

The only other furniture, apart from the bed, was a small dressing table and a matching chair. Harry walked over to the chair, considering. He picked the chair up, heaving it thoughtfully. Then he smashed it against the nearby wall.

The first blow sent shock waves shivering up his arms, but Harry was undeterred by that, and struck again, and again. The walls were too thick to break down that way, of course, but that wasn't Harry's aim. After twenty or so blows, Harry had managed to break the chair up enough that he had a cruel and makeshift club.

The next person that entered this room would get a knock on the head. He might not have his wand, but Harry was determined to go down fighting.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry Potter and His Witches

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: This chapter is pretty hard to write, and I'm not really satisfy with it, but as it is overdue for about two months now, I thought it might be better to unpload it and see what you guys think. So, please feedback to me, and let me improve my writing.

I have added a little more content to chapter 5. So head over there and tell me if you like the additions.

------------------------------

Chapter 7:

**------------------------------ **

_On the Unforgivables_

_If you have bought this book, you would know, or at least heard of these spells. T__he Cruciatus Curse, the Imperius Curse, and of course, the Killing Curse. They are collectively known as the Unforgivable Curses, the use of which would earn you a lifetime stay at Azkaban. _

_But why are these particular spells singled out in such a manner, you ask. After all, there are many spells that can cause pain, used to control a person, or to kill. What is so unique about these three spells that such hash punishment is implemented._

_The answer lies in the mental state needed to use these spells. As you well know (or not, depending on your level of education), certain spells require emotions to lend power to it. The __Patronus Charm is one such example, using happy thoughts to fuel it. _

_The Unforgivables too make use of emotions to power themselves. In their case, however, the emotions used are not so __benign. Let us take as an example the Killing Curse. It is not enough that you want the death of someone. Curiously, the required emotion is not hatred, but indifference. To be able to cast this spell is to view that person's life as utterly unimportant; insignificant to the point of uncaring, as if towards an ant or other such insects. Only then can the curse be successfully casted. You can imagine the consequence of such thoughts over a prolong period of time. _

_Likewise for the other two curses. It has been argued that the Cruciatus Curse could be used in the treatment of spell-damaged nerves and paralyzed limbs. The required mindset, however, removed that possibility. Not only must you wish to cause pain to someone, but that there can be no other motive or objective other then pure pain. Righteous feeling will do you no good here. A desire to help the person you are cursing would prevent the spell from working at all. There must be no other desire other then that of causing the person to suffer the worse agony imaginable. That is why it is an Unforgivable. No other purpose other then torture is possible with this curse._

_The Imperius Curse is far more insidious then its brother curses. While the Killing Curse targets the spirit, removing it from the living plane, and the Cruciatus Curse affects the body, overwhelming it with pain, the Imperius Curse aims at the soul and mind of a person, stripping it of free will. A person so cursed would regard all orders given by the caster as of utmost importance, unless their mind is stronger then the caster. __To successfully cast this spell would require you to regard your target as a plaything, or a puppet, a lower life form that did not deserve to think for itself, fit only to carry out your wishes and commands._

_As you can see, these are not healthy emotions to carry around for any length of time, and the reason why they are considered Unforgivable to use. If, after reading this, you still insist on using them, know that you cast them at the peril of your soul. There are none that can escape their effects._

_-_Exception from 'The Darkest Arts'.

--------------------------------

Blinking, Hermione pulled herself upright into a sitting position, wondering when did she fell asleep, and if Harry had carried her up to bed. Her body was sore, but after enduring countless hours training for combat with Harry and Ron the last month, being sore wasn't something new.

"Careful, Hermione. You are not fully recovered yet."

Hermione froze on hearing the voice. Was she farther out of it then she realized, to be hearing Luna now? Her eyes turned towards the direction of the voice, and there she was, seated beside her with her most vacant expression on her face.

"Luna? What are you doing here?" Her eyes continued to roam beyond Luna, and an uneasy feeling creep into her. This isn't her room at Hogwarts. In fact, she was fairly sure she had never laid eyes on this room before. Was she in the Room of Requirement? If so, who asked for this room... Luna? "Where is this place anyway?"

"You know, I have no idea..." Luna replied, head tilling to one side thoughtfully. "I was looking for Harry, but the blue-winged Blugger led me to you instead.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. In a flash, the events at the tavern came rushing back to her. Had they been captured? But if Luna is here.... "Did the Order rescue us? Where's Harry? And Ron?"

"I don't know..." Luna answered, shaking her head sadly. "But this isn't a very friendly place. I passed by a couple of death eaters on my way here."

"Death eaters..." So they had been captured after all. But if that was so... "How did you get here then?"

"I followed the Blue-winged Blugger, of course."

"The what?" Hermione knew she shouldn't be surprised, this is Luna we are talking about after all, but even so...

"Blue-winged Blugger." Luna answered cheerfully. "Let me show you." She pulled a thick leather-bound book out from her robes and opened it. Hermione stared at her. Did she actually have a book on all those fantastic creatures she was always mentioning? Could those creatures actually exist? Recorded somewhere in ink and parchment?

Her next action dispelled such notion, and shocked Hermione to the core. Luna ripped out a page from it and crumbled it in her hands.

"What are you doing!" Hermione nearly shrieked, snatching the book away from Luna. To her, the destruction of books, any books, is near sacrilegious. Hermione cradled the book to herself as if it's a baby.

"Don't worry, it's empty." Luna said calmly, unconcern of having her book ripped from her so rudely. She held her hand up, offering the crumbled piece of paper to the air. Hermione gapped at her behavior, before opening and flipping through the book. Sure enough, the book is empty of words.

Hermione looked up, perplexed, when she noticed the crunched up paper in Luna's hand. Right before her eyes, she saw a tiny corner of the paper disappeared. Then another. It's almost as if something was eating it, bite by bite.

"Daddy made this himself, you know." Luna said proudly, reaching with the other hand to stroke air. For a second, right in front of Hermione's amazed eyes, a ripple in the air flowed from Luna's hand, reveling a bizarre creature before it faded away. All Hermione managed to see in that split-second was a round blue ball with what seems like tiny bat wings sticking out of it's side. It was such a fleeing glimpse that Hermione wondered if she had imagined it...

Luna stood up, brushing her hands off, empty of paper now. "We should go now, if you are feeling up to it. Harry still need to be found."

Hermione, who had been too stunned to even think of moving, felt a jolt at the mention of Harry's name. She shook herself, silently chastening herself, before getting off the bed. She felt around her robes for her wand, but of course it wasn't with her anymore.

Luna slipped her hands into Hermione's, gripping it tightly. She gave a wan smile on seeing Hermione's curious look. "So you don't get lost," She explained calmly, vacant expression firmly in place. "I don't think this is a nice place to loose your way in..."

Privatively, Hermione couldn't agree with Luna more, as she looked around the bare room, though richly decorated, seems brooding and dark somehow. She shivered, and tighten her hold on Luna's hands, feeling a sudden and unexplained surge of affection for the pale, blond witch. "Let's go," She said instead, allowing Luna to lead the way.

------------------------------------

"Thank Merlin you are here." Tom the barkeep whimpered on sporting Mad-eye stepping out of the floo. "That werewolf near tore me head off!"

Moody groan again, stepping to one side to allow Bill to come through the floo. From his position, he could see Remus walking to and fro, nose in the air to catch Harry's scent. Tonks stood to one side, near the door looking in, having managed to reclaim her arm before Remus pulled it right out of its socket in his eagerness.

"One hell of a mess, boss." Tonks reported, when Moody came into view. "He sure didn't go down easy."

Peeking in, Moody was forced to agree. Trashed didn't even began to cover it. Devastated would be more accurate. Beside him, Bill gave an admiring whistle. Not even the Terrible Twins ever came close to this... How the hell did he manage to stick that table halfway up the walls...

"Alright, guys. We have a job to do. I suggest we do it." Moody barked, entering the room proper. Tonks and Bill looked at each other, shrugged and followed him in.

----------------------------------

Harry and Narcissa stared at each other, the broken edge of the chair leg between them. Harry had instinctively swung down as hard as he could with the leg, only to catch himself at the last moment when he glimpsed Narcissa's long blond hair. Even as angry as he is now, he would not stoop so low as to hit a defenseless woman. Now Bellatrix on the other hand...

Narcissa's eyes drifted from Potter's to the pointy end of the leg. Another moment and it would had ripped the face right off her. She shuddered then, as the thought of just how close she came to death or disfigurement.

Keeping the leg pointed firmly in the blond woman's direction, Harry stepped around her to her wand and picked it up. He gave it an experimental swish, and nodded when a few silver sparks jumped from the wand. Though not as close a fit as his own Phoenix-feather wand, it would do until he can regain it.

Narcissa moved to a sitting position and watched silently as Potter picked her wand up, inwardly suddenly furious at herself, now that her relief had ran its course. She had expected to find Potter still stunned, and had planned to capitalized on his grogginess when he was revived. She would then rush him to the exit floo and get him out of the manor before he could recover. But now that he was awake and waiting, she would have to implement plan B, and she wasn't as confident of it as the first. But still she must try...

"Lord Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the form of address. It was one that only a pure blood would use... And he realized where he had heard that voice and seen that hair before. At the Quidditch World Cup. Then that means...

"Mrs Malfoy, I presume."

Narcissa winced. Potter's tone was frosty. Her chance of success appeared to dwindle before her eyes.

"I mean no harm, my Lord." She said quickly. "I merely wish to aid you in your escape from this place."

"And you expect me to believe that the wife and mother of death eaters want to help me?" Harry said, shaking his head disbelievingly. "What kind of fool do you take me for?"

"You misunderstood, my Lord." Narcissa injected. "I am aiding you not as Narcissa Malfoy, but as Narcissa Black!"

"Huh?" That threw Harry for a loop. What does she mean by that?

"The previous Head of the Black family, Lord Sirius Black, had named you his heir, did he not?" Narcissa continued hurriedly. "With his passing, you are now Lord Black. And as a member of the Black family, it is my duty to aid you in your time of need."

"And you need my help for something too, isn't it?" Harry asked, struck by a sudden impulse. "Something that only the Lord Black could do. I doubt you'll risk your neck otherwise, family or not."

"It is as you say, my Lord." Narcissa agreed. "I seek to escape from the clutches of the Dark Lord, and that of my husband. For that, I require the aid of the Head of the Black family."

"You are being surprisingly open about this." Harry said after a moment's consideration.

"Guile takes time, my Lord. And time is something we are running short of ." Narcissa replied easily. "I can tell you the details later, my Lord, when we are in a safer location."

"I'll agree to that." Harry said. "But how do I know if I can trust you?"

"I am willing to swear an oath on my blood and magic, my Lord."

"And you'll need your wand in your hand for that." Harry countered. "I think I'll hold on to this for a little while more. Why don't you lead the way to my wand and my friends. I'll follow right behind you. You can give your oath after I have a few more wands available, just in case, you understand."

"Of course, my Lord. As you command."

----------------------------------

Ron Wesley stared at his hands with wide, disbelieving eyes. He was back at the room where he had been awaken, a half hour and a lifetime ago.

When his silent escort had shown him back to this room, the first thing he saw was the back robes and white mask placed on the otherwise empty bed. Till then, he had been somewhat in shock, and had consciously blanked his mind to avoid thinking of what he just did. The robes and mask stripped away this comfort.

He picked up the mask, noting in passing at his shaking hands. Turning it over and over in his hands, he sank onto the bed as his knees gave way.

'This is for Hermione. With this, I can protect her.' Even as he thought the thought, he knew it was a lie.

Ron suddenly laughed, a short forlorn bark of laughter that somehow sounded more like a sob.

'I'm a death eater now.' And this thought sounded more true within his mind. 'I'm no better then Pettigrew...'

And that was utterly depressing.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry Potter and His Witches

By: Shinteo5

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: Sorry this is so late, but well, life kinda got in the way... As always, thanks for all those who have reviewed. It's a huge encouragement to see reviews notices in my e-mail intray. :)

* * *

Chapter 8:

* * *

The Dark Lord Voldemort stared at the cup of tea in his hands with unblinking eyes, thinking hard. The Weasley had been easy, hardly a challenge for the great Voldemort. However, he had a feeling that the mudblood would not go down so quickly. Call it a gut feeling, if you will...

Voldemort was not blind, and had noticed the eagerness that Bella displayed when the mudblood was mentioned, as well as the slight pause when he said the mudblood was beneath notice.

It's rare for Bella to show such a reaction to anybody, especially for a mudblood. Rare enough to make Voldemort cautious. Besides, she was Potter's right-hand girl, just as Bella was his own. He might have to work a little harder on her...

He leaned back and smiled coldly. Not too much more effort though. He is the Dark Lord Voldemort, after all, and she is just a little girl. Given that the pureblood within the group did not have a occlumency shield, it would be fairly safe to bet that the mudblood would not have one too. His legilimency would give him all the edge he needed.

Hearing the footsteps of one of his death eater walking past outside the room, Voldemort pointed his wand over his shoulder and summoned the poor fool into the room. There was a crash as the door banged open and the death eater stumbled into the room.

"Get me the mudblood." Voldemort ordered in an disinterested voice. Without waiting for an answer, or even sparing a glance at the man, he banished him back out of the room, the door slamming shut as he flew past.

* * *

The death eater recruit pouted under his mask, rubbing the sore spot on his head. Honestly, he joined the Dark Lord to cause mayhem and watch those stupid muggles flee before his awesomeness, not getting flung about the room and running mental errands like this. This is so beneath him...

He paused before a large gilded mirror hanging in the middle of the large flight of stairs to admire his dashing form. Granted, between the bone-white mask covering his face and the black robes covering everything else, there isn't much of his form that can be seen, much less admired, but he was still dashing, dang it all!

He should be out there terrorizing muggles, not running around the manor in the dead of the night fetching muggle-born wenches!

But on the other hand, this assignment was given to him by the Dark Lord himself! He might have only summoned him (roughly!) into the room, but it is the Dark Lord's personal order nonetheless. If he kept it up, he'll catch the Dark Lord's eyes soon enough! The Dark Lord will see his worth then, and then he'll get his wish of seeing muggles fleeing before him. It's only a matter of time!

He barely managed to resist busting out into manic laughter. No, time enough for that later. After he completed this distasteful task. With that, he continued up the stairs, turning round the corner in time to see the door of his intended destination swung open.

At this unexpected sight, the death eater panicked, fumbling for his wand. Nobody should be moving about at this time of the night, so it must be an intruder! Added to the fact that the room contained the mudblood, and it became a near certainty. He was rather proud of his little deduction.

The Dark Lord will reward him well if he was able to take down this intruder, the death eater grinned to himself, as he finally managed to pull out his wand. He whipped it forward, firing a stunner as he did, just as a blond girl stepped through the open door, and her eyes widen in surprise.

* * *

Luna had just pushed the door open and stepped through when she suddenly jerked back, shoving Hermione to the ground. Just barely able to keep from a painful spill, Hermione turned to demand an explanation, but a splash of red light answered for her, as Luna dropped onto one knee, returning fire from around the door.

Her first instinct is to join the fight, but when her hands closed on empty air again, she realized anew how helpless being without a wand in the wizarding world could be. Instead, she was forced to hide as Luna did the fighting.

She need not worry though. Luna had obviously kept up with her training on her own, even with the DA on a year-old hiatus last year. Her dreamy expression gone for the moment, as she utilized the speed and training from the DA to her advantage, firing a barrage of spells from around the corner of the door, easily blowing through the flimsy shield that the death eater had hastily erected to slam into the death eater's body, nearly throwing him right off the stairs. Only the fact that the death eater fell forward instead of back saved him from a painful trip down the flight of stairs.

She turned then, finished with her opponent, and reached out a hand to help Hermione to her feet.

Hermione nodded and accepted the aid, a little awed at how Luna was acting at the moment, and how fast she finished the fight. Then she remembered the ministry fight, and that Luna, out of the six that went, was the only one to escape serious injury. It seems there is more to Luna then just her dreamy face and imaginary creatures.

Looking over the death eater, Luna shot another spell at him, wrapping him up in ropes, before nodding in satisfaction. Hermione scrambled out of the way as Luna levitated the helpless man, guiding the prone body into the room and banished him onto the bed in a single wave of her wand.

"We better leave, before more arrive." Hermione said, as Luna fired another stunner for good measure. Luna nodded in agreement, and took hold of Hermione's hand again. Together, they stepped out of the room, once again following the Blue-winged Blugger in search of Harry.

* * *

"All right. What am I looking at here?" Remus grumbled. He had been shoved aside as Bill and Moody got to work attempting to track the portkeys back to their destination.

He had nearly tore into them then, and indeed would have, had Tonks not grabbed hold of his arm to hold him back. He had snared at her, the wolf within very close to the edge. That is, until Tonks grabbed a handy mug of cold beer miraculously left untouched and emptied it over his head, shocking him awake.

He had grudgingly stepped away from the room, allowing the professionals their room to work, knowing, now that he was able to think through the red haze again, that this would be the fastest way to finding Harry. That, and he needed to find a towel to dry the beer off his hair...

"Those would be the energy signature of the portkeys." Tonks explained from beside him. She had kept her hold on Remus' arm, not trusting him to remain calm. "Normally Moody can see them just fine with that magic eye of his, but Bill would need to bring it into the visible spectrum to do anything with it. Hence the light show."

Bill waved his wand, murmuring something as he did, prompting a set of interlocking rune set to rise from the glittering mess at his feet.

"Well, well. I haven't seen this particular address in some time." Moody said, magic eye whirling around as he took in the rune set.

"This is unfamiliar to me." Bill confessed, waving his wand again, changing certain runes within the set to a deep blue color.

"Don't bother." Moody replied sourly, stomping right into the changing runes. "I've seen that one often enough, back in the days. It's Malfoy's stinking old manor."

"You sure?" Bill asked disbelievingly, lowering his wand now that the runes were slowly dispersing from Moody's passage through them.

"Cos I'm sure." Moody shot back, tapping the side of his head. "This eye doesn't make mistakes, you know. Though the death eaters sure have slacked off. It never used to be that easy before..."

"We're wasting time." Remus cut in, shoving his way forward. "If Moody is sure, then let's go!"

"Not so fast." Moody interrupted with an open palm on Remus' chest. "There's bound to be defenses in that place. I'll take us close by instead. We'll make our way in from the outside. We'll get a better overview of their defenses and wards there."

"We don't have time for that!" Remus protested, knocking the hand away, unwilling to leave Harry in there for longer then necessary.

"That was too easy." Moody countered undeterred, waving a hand at the glittering remains of the rune address. "I will not willingly walk into a trap just because you want to save a few minutes!"

"Every minute we waste is another minute they could be torturing Harry!" Remus grounded out from clenched teeth, looming over Moody as he stared defiantly back.

"Cut it out, Remus." Tonks said, pushing in between the two. "I understand that you want to save Harry as fast as possible, but I'm with Moody in this one. It's just too dangerous to jump in blind. We'll do Harry no good if we got ourselves captured or killed before we can rescue him!"

There was a short pause as Remus and Tonks stared each other down. Finally Remus backed off with a growl. "Fine. I understand." He said, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Let's go then." Bill said, seeing the drama over for now. He held out one of the debris, half a leg, to the others. "I got the portkey ready."

"Better keep your wolf on a leash, Tonks." Moody whispered into Tonks' ear, knowing full well that with his enhanced hearing, Remus can hear him just fine. Tonks had to stuff a hand into her mouth to muff the sudden burst of laughter at the though of Remus in werewolf form, looking forlorn at her with a dog collar around his neck. Shaking with suppressed laughter, she followed Moody to the portkey.

* * *

Harry walked a step behind Mrs Malfoy, his hand holding the wand steady between them, but his mind was wandering, wondering what in the world was he doing, following along behind someone whom he knew was connected to not one, but two death eaters. His instinct was yelling at him to just stun the woman and escape as soon as he can, but he suppressed it as well as he could. She would be needed in order to find Hermione and Ron. He would be lost in a moment within this massive house without her as a guide.

Even as he thought that, Narcissa turned from the well-lighted halls into the gloomy shadows of a small corridor barely large enough to walk upright. "It's a short-cut," She explained as she went, one hand trailing along the wall. She had been pointing out to Potter some of the trinkets and artifacts kept within the massive halls that is the Malfoy's manor, showing off the sheer wealth of the manor. Even here, within the pathway mean for servants, rich paintings hung between everlasting candles.

'You'd think this is a guided tour, instead of a rescue and escape mission." Harry thought grumpily to himself, his eyes automatically turning to look as his companion gestured towards a particularly large painting of some Malfoy's ancestor. The same blond hair and haughty expression was evident on the painting, a practical clone of his descendants. He even had the same snobbish expression, as he sneered down his nose at Harry walking by.

Narcissa had to fake a cough as laughter threaten to bust out at any moment. She knew she shouldn't, but Potter's reactions were just too funny. Every time she pointed out one of the many items dotting the manor to him, Potter's eyes would follow her finger to whatever object she happened to be showing him at the moment, before snapping back to her and narrowing, as if angry at being caught off guard. Her new Lord was surprisingly entertaining

Harry frowned as Mrs Malfoy gave a very unconvincing cough. She's laughing at him, he just knew it. Well, he'll show her. Without stopping to think about it, he fired off a mild stinging hex at her butt, making her jump suddenly, more from the shock of the spell then any real harm.

"My Lord Potter!" She protested, whirling around to face the brat. However, he simply waved her wand at her, grinning away at her, silently reminding her of the current power balance between the two. Huffing, she turned back and continued on, her hands itching to rub at her butt and ease the sting. Resolutely, she held her arms at her side, refusing to acknowledge Potter's victory.

Harry smiled a little, seeing Mrs Malfoy's arms tense up. Idly, he wondered why did he did what he did. Though she was technically an enemy, there's a familiar ease that simply did not feel dangerous. Shrugging, Harry gave up the puzzle, opting instead to worry about finding Hermione and Ron, and escaping from the death eater's den.

* * *

Ron sat on the bed, hands clasping his knees as he stared blankly into the darkness surrounding him. He had tried to sleep earlier, but the thought of what he did raced around his mind, making sleep a near impossibility. He was already starting to regret his decision, as magnitude of what he had agreed to bore down on him. But he was trapped now, with no way out that he could see.

"_Promise me, if I join you, that you would not harm Harry and Hermione."_

"_Do you presume to order the Dark Lord around?" _

"_N...No! I just..."_

"_Silence! You are not so valuable a pawn that I would tolerate such disrespect!"_

"_..."_

"_But... the Dark Lord can be generous to his servants. The mudblood will not be harmed,at least, not by my hands."_

"_Th...thank you, my...my Lord..."_

"_As for Potter... He has been a thorn in my sides for far too long."_

"_I... understand, my Lord. As long as Hermione is safe..."_

"_Go now, and prepare yourself. The morning will be a busy one."_

"_Yes, my Lord..."_

He could only hope that the Dark Lord would keep his word. He wasn't stupid. The Dark Lord had only promised not to harm Hermione himself. He said nothing about his followers. Ron narrowed his eyes. He'll just have to keep both eyes open and on Hermione.


End file.
